


A Shot At Fluff

by Pariahrogue



Category: Punisher (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 12:14:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7801462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pariahrogue/pseuds/Pariahrogue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just some fluff. Not sure if I'm good at it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Shot At Fluff

Rogue was nervous to say those three little words. I love you. They represented more than just love, they were opening her up to being vulnerable, of potential loss. What if he doesn’t love me? What if he does, but is too scared to admit it? What if he ridicules me? Or worse, ignores me? All those thoughts and more poured through her.

She stared at her feet, while Frank moved around the Spartan makeshift apartment. He had saved her from the mafia and she’d been too frightened to go anywhere else but with him. With a scowl, he had let her come home with him, when he considered that she might be a target elsewhere.

He sat down in a chair with a grace that belied his size. She considered him handsome, with his piercing eyes and strong, masculine features. His jet black hair, kept short by both necessity and not wanting to fuck with it, had a single strand of silver. She thought that he’d go completely gray by sixty.

“Anything wrong, Rogue? You’re antsy, like you want to tell me something. Have a sin you want to confess?” He peered up from attending to his gun and almost smiled at her. He’d grown fond—and truthfully, more than fond—of her since she came to stay. She made herself useful, she learned to shoot and defend herself, and made sure the apartment was tidy and that he had fresh food. Rogue hated eating those MRE’s and refused to permit him to eat them when she was around. He shouldn’t have let himself feel for the woman, Frank knew that, but Rogue was a breath of life and light. 

“Ah’m afraid if Ah tell you, you won’t believe me.” Rogue said as she closed her eyes. Frank was not an easy man, but he was loyal and he listened. He always listened, even when she didn’t think he was, much to her gratitude and, on occasion, annoyance.

He placed his M1911 back in the thigh holster and regarded her with his intense eyes. Eyes that had seen much and could read people like a book. Eyes that held a wealth of world weariness and wrath, when provoked. Rogue loved those cold blue eyes, the intelligence behind them and the sorrow that she saw when he believed she wasn’t looking.

“Ah love you, Frank.” Rogue said, nervous and dreading the inevitable ‘get-the-hell-outta-here’.

He did not utter those words, but he scooted closer to her. “You shouldn’t, Rogue. I don’t deserve it.” His glove hand tipped her head up to meet his gaze.

“Ah love you.” She repeated, her eyes full of fear of rejection and her heart beat wildly. “Ah can’t help it.”

He sighed. He was a very patient man, one had to be to make it through sniper school, and introspective. He always was a man who liked to think. He loved Rogue—he was drawn to her warmth and personable charm—but did not want to hurt her any more than life already had. /I could tell her the truth or I could lie and break her heart. It’d save her life./

The next words surprised him when they came from his mouth. “I love you, too.”


End file.
